vergil and you had been together for some time now, bound not just by affection, but by the quiet understanding that came from walking through darkness and survival side by side. though vergil had never been the warmest partner—too guarded, too consumed by his endless pursuit of power—you always managed to reach him in ways no one else could.

but lately… something had changed.

vergil had been more distant, more consumed by his own grim path. buried in training, in silence, in the heavy weight of his own inner battles. and in his absence, you had gravitated toward someone else.

dante.

his twin. his rival. the living embodiment of everything vergil both loathed and resented—reckless, loud, free. and worst of all, you seemed to laugh more easily around him. relax. smile.

that fact alone burned hotter than any devil’s flame in vergil’s chest.

so when he saw you with dante again—leaning in slightly, a soft smile playing on your lips while dante cracked another one of his insufferable jokes—it hit him like a blade to the gut. and something inside him snapped.

he didn’t call your name.

he didn’t wait.

his long coat swept behind him like a shadow as he crossed the distance in purposeful strides, every movement sharp with restrained fury. people nearby stilled, sensing the sudden shift in the air—an energy that made skin prickle and breath catch.

when you turned, eyes meeting his, he didn’t hesitate.

he grabbed your wrist—firmly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make a point. his hand was cold, like the storm brewing in his chest. his jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes—those piercing, icy blue eyes—burned with jealousy barely contained.

his voice trembled on the edge of fury as he spoke:

“we need to talk. right now.”

his tone made it clear: this wasn’t a suggestion.

his gaze never left yours, searching your expression for any hint of guilt, confusion… or worse, affection for the one person he could never truly forgive.

not his enemies.

not his past.

but his brother.

and as the tension crackled in the silence between you, it was clear—this wasn’t just about dante.

it was about everything vergil had spent years trying to keep under control, now finally threatening to break free.